When the Past Collides
by EndlessGhostfire
Summary: A century on, things have changed. Grell's changed. Not only is he working an Office Job at the Dispatch, but is a very successful Drag Queen by night. When he gets called out to investigate a confusing case, what will happen? Who is behind it? And will he be the same when he finds out? ModernEra. Rated M. Pairing: Sebastian/Grell
1. Chapter 1

The lock clicked in the silence of the mansion as he finally got home. He was exhausted, carrying his jacket and purse in one hand as the other reached for the stacked heeled shoes on his feet. Grell leaned heavily on the open door in his haste to get his shoes off. He had been walking in them all day and now it felt like he was walking on nine inch nails.

A loud sigh was heard as he finally got his feet free, balancing on one of them to massage the arch of the other. It had been a long day.

Grabbing something from his rubber cleavage, he reached up with tired arms to put his long red hair up in a messy bun, wiping the sweat that had gathered at the nape of his neck.

He eventually made his way further into the house, letting the door swing shut behind him and dumping his heels and purse next to it on the floor.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror and cringed. His make up had partially rubbed off, and his contacts were drying out, making his eyes look red and sore. Grabbing the handy pack of wet wipes he kept on the dresser, Grell began to scrub away his remaining make up. Being in his profession, there was a lot of it to remove before his face was clean.

After a good deal of scrubbing, he was back to his normal face; not so much a female anymore. He gave himself a tired grin in the mirror, thankful to have the slap off.

"Much better"

Grabbing his purse, he fished around for a moment before he found his mobile phone and charger and began to climb the large staircase to his bedroom, idly flicking through his notifications. He gave his number out regularly to fans or just attractive people who liked him, but some of them didn't know the difference between a drag queen and a hooker.

He growled quietly as he proceeded to block three numbers from his phone after seeing the crude messages he was sent, and threw his phone onto the dressing table as he entered his room.

Flopping down on the bed, he finally let himself relax. He was still tucked, so it was difficult to relax, but he was so tired he did it.

After what felt like seconds, his alarm loudly beeped next to his ear and he turned his head to look at the time. Brilliant. He was late for work again.

By the time he'd managed to get out of his spandex outfit and into a somewhat smart uniform, he looked just as bad as he felt. It was his day job. He didn't need to look fabulous for it.

He was about to run out of the door before he doubled back and hastily stuck on some concealer and mascara. He wasn't a total slob. His feet screamed at him as he slid them into his red and black ankle boots; custom made, obviously. No one, not even a reaper, could keep a pair of boots in tact for a hundred years.

It was lucky he glanced in the mirror as he ran out of the mansion, as he realised he still had on an enormous pair of earrings. He rolled his eyes as his almost-fuck-up and took them out, racing from the door only 30 minutes late. A record.

"Grell, in our almost 2 hundred years of knowing each other, I don't think you've ever been on time to work" William was in a good mood this morning, it seemed.

Grell sighed dismissively and flopped down in his office chair, a large cup of spiced coffee clutched in his hand like a lifesaver. "Rough night, darling" He muttered, resting his head on the desk for about 5 seconds before Will's Scythe came flying at him. "Alright. Alright" He growled, heaving himself up as he went to collect his paperwork from the fax. Even Reapers learned to adapt, and boy was it time saving.

Grell was shuffling papers in his hands when he heard Will speak up.

"You have a Field job..." he said, obviously surprised himself.

The redhead whipped round to face him. "What?!" He yelped, walking towards his colleague. "I haven't had one of those for years"

Will cleared his threat and nodded to Grell's ledger in his hands. Grell leaned over Will's shoulder for a closer look and, sure enough, there it was. A call out.

"What does this mean?" He asked, walking around to sit at the chair on the other side of Will's desk. The sincere reaper looked equally stunned.

"I'm not sure. I didn't authorise this. Must be demon-related"

Grell groaned and threw himself on the desk dramatically, "Demons?!" He narrowed his eyes at Will, "Screw you for making me responsible for Other-Species."

"Yeah, well" Will smirked, "You didn't seem to complain when I gave you the job"

Grell tried to stay angry but ended up chuckling. "You could say that" He glared at the ledger and snatched it from Will's hands, trying to see if he had laser vision to burn the thing to the ground.

"Do you think it could be..." Will asked tentively as Grell shook his head in response.

"They haven't been seen in 50 years. I doubt they would come up to the surface" He replied, "No, it's most likely a fledge or something, being stupid and trying to become the next Jack the Ripper"

"That position is still filled" Will commented with a smirk. Grell chuckled.

"Damn straight."

"Grell, there's nothing straight about you"

"Hey!" Grell stuck his tongue out between his teeth. He'd began to wear them normally. His night job would be unpopular if he smiled and showed a full set of pointed teeth. They still came out now and again, but only in a fit of anger or a tantrum.

Gulping down the last of his, now, lukewarm coffee, he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and stretched, "Better go see what the fuss is, then"

"Good luck. Don't fall in love with this one" Will ducked as the empty coffee cup came flying at his head and laughed.

Authors Note:

Hey guys, hope you liked the first chapter of my new Black Butler story. I found this prompt today saved on my phone somewhere and my inspiration just sparked. I'd love your feedback!


	2. Chapter 2

Pulling his hair out of his eyes and retying it in a long ponytail, Grell strolled down the streets of London. It had been ages since he'd been out on a Field trip. He was quite looking forward to it. Since his close call with a succubus - that left him in the Dispatch's infirmary for a month- Will had promoted him to Head of the Other-Species department, and subsequently gave him an office job. The redhead didn't really mind it; he fought against it at first, but then realised that it gave him the freedom to actually enjoy his life (or unlife). As the years went on, he studied the fashion and culture, making sure to accommodate his Style accordingly. He loved it when the 80s came along; He'd layered his hair to Kingdom-come and backcombed it until it resembled a lion's mane. That was the only time he'd dyed his hair blonde. It was a disaster at first – he got Ronald to help him and, because of the colour of his natural hair, it went bright orange. Luckily, he was able to run to a human-hairdresser to get it fixed. It was beautiful, but his missed his red hair. In the 90s, He'd developed an obsession with the Tv show Friends, and cut his hair to his shoulders, recreating the perfect Rachel look.

By the time the 2000s came along, Grell's hair had gone through hundreds of changes. When the crazy hair trends settled down, he regrew his hair, let the blonde grow out – He'd bought some very expensive wigs for that stage, how horrible he looked- and his beautiful red hair grew back.

Now it was lovely and long, with just a few layers here and there to give it volume.

His fashion changed, too. And, with him now having free time, had the time to actually learn the ways of the Humans. He loved the trends that followed the 1970s. He attending Woodstock – much to the annoyance of Will – and experienced trying human drugs for the first time. He decided he didn't much like them – being a supernatural being, the effects either knocked you straight out or didn't work at all. He enjoyed the occasional cigarette or two, a habit that he still had to this day, but alcohol was his preferred bad habit. It tasted nice. And his regular bar made him beautiful fruity red cocktails with sparklers.

His style now was very fashionable. It hadn't changed much for the past decade, because he enjoyed it so much, and it was closely related to what he used to wear.

His boots were a staple in his wardrobe. He didn't wear them whilst working his night job, god no, they were too precious for that. He'd exchanged his brown trousers for a pair of black skinny jeans – he owned about a hundred pairs of the things, they went with everything! His vest and tie were gone and replaced with dark fitted shirts, mostly deep red, crop tops, or blouses, coupled with beautifully fitted leather jackets or long jackets. The one thing, bar the boots, that didn't change was his Red coat. The beautiful thing had been remade time and time again, he'd lost count. He only really wore it when he was working, though. His beloved coat had been through so much, it needed a break now and then. In this day and age, he didn't stand out as much as he used to, something he both hated and loved.

He'd had his fair share of discrimination in the past, and still made sure to stay well clear of America. They never understood him. He did find solace in Camden –a certain part of London-. The place was known for the strange fashion and the people, and no one bat an eyelid when Grell walked down the street. Now, even in other parts of London, he barely got any trouble – except for the one or two arseholes who liked to shout homophobic slurs at him from outside bars.

Grell didn't care about those – it was a lot better than trying to work in the 40s and 50s. God. He shivered at the thought of it.

He yawned, pulling out a battered packet of cigarettes from his bag hanging at his hip and lit one up. The cool autumn air made the smoke billow upwards as he inhaled and exhaled. Checking his ledger again, he realised he was close to where he needed to check out and began to pay more attention to his surroundings.

He was in a quiet part of London, full of small, family run shops and tiny bakeries. It was coming up to mid-day, so most people were busy either rushing to work, grabbing a coffee before their child started crying again, or just milling around, not paying attention to anyone. Grell sniffed, trying to determine the scent of a Demon, and found a faint trace. Partially followed his nose, and part his ledger, he arrived at the entrance to a long alleyway.

"Always has to be an alley" He muttered to himself as he entered cautiously, "Couldn't ever be a Shopping Mall or a Spa, no, a dark, dingy Alley"

His footsteps became very loud as all other noise seemed to stop, the people on the street behind him going quiet, the birds overhead holding their tongues. Grell knew what would be coming, and got ready to summon his scythe if needed.

The further he walked into the Alley, the less was visible. There were a few bins spotted around, along with trash on the ground, which the Reaper carefully stepped around.

Grell stopped at the first sight of blood. It was only a few drops, leading to what looked like a struggle. He crouched, pressing a finger into the blood and bringing it to his nose to sniff. Human. This couldn't be good.

He began to follow the blood, which grew in consistency as he walked, and eventually ended up at a dead end…with no body.

"Huh?" Grell exclaimed, confused. He spun in a circle, with no avail. Nothing. No one was here. With that amount of blood, there surely should have been a dead body, but there was nothing.

Suspecting foul play, Grell began inspecting the scene. The blood trail stopped when the alleyway ended, and finished in a pool of it. So, there was a body, but someone had moved it. The smell of demon was rife, too.

Grell mulled over his options for a moment, before getting his phone out of his pocket to take photos of the scene for later examination. After he'd finished, he noticed a blood splatter on the wall, leading upwards to the rooftops.

Using his Reaper abilities, Grell was standing on the roof in seconds. The rooftops spread on the ages, with the occasional gap when a building wasn't the same height as the others.

Up there, Grell couldn't see any sign of the blood from the alley. Getting even more confused, he walked around the rooftops aimlessly, trying to find at least something that would advance his search, but nothing was found.

He was about to turn around to go back to the Dispatch when a loud scream pierced through the silence. Grell was chasing the sound in seconds, and dropped down into yet another alley. This one was dirtier but lighter. He stayed in the shadows, not allowing himself to be seen by the girl who was the cause of the scream. She looked horrified as she shakily pointed into the shadows opposite where Grell was hiding. After a few seconds, she finally broke out of her horrified trance and began to run from the alley, screaming bloody murder.

Grell advanced towards the object of her horror, and, as his eyes readjusted, finally saw the battered and bloody corpse lying propped up against the wall.

Grell wrinkled his nose as the smell, and used his sleeve to press against his nose to mask it. None of this made sense. The body in front of him had started to decompose, but the blood he had found was fresh – hours fresh. This body had been dead for at least 4 days. The same scent of demon lingered around the body, but the further Grell investigated, he found the body still had a soul.

"What in the hell…" He muttered, taking photos of the body before he summoned his scythe and Reaped the soul. He searched the man's memories to try and see what happened, but the moment the alleyway was seen everything went black.

This case was turning out to be more interesting than Grell had originally thought. With one last look around, he decided to return to the Dispatch to report his findings.


	3. Chapter 3

A couple of hours later found Grell, Will and Ronald huddled around Grell's desk. He'd printed the photos he took, as well as written out his findings, and all three Creatures were equally baffled.

Ronald sipped the Ice Tea he'd stolen from Grell, studying one of the photos closely. "Are you sure it was decomposing"

Grell rolled his eyes, "Darling, after two centuries in the business, I think I would know what state a corpse is at." He said irritably.

Will hummed in thought, picking up a photo of the body. "It looks like it was drained of blood when it died"

"But the blood was fresh!" Grell exclaimed, "Not frozen. Not preserved. Fresh!" He threw his hands up and sat down in his chair, leaning back with his face in his hands. "I couldn't take a sample, I didn't bring any vials." He growled, "This is so confusing"

"Do you think it was planned?" Will spoke up. He'd been silent for a while now, lost in thought. "A Demon planted the body in the hopes of drawing us off the chase?"

"Maybe. I've checked the human news websites. There's been no missing persons this week that fits with the time of death of the corpse" Grell replied, turning to his computer to check about any recent disappearances.

"Here!" He exclaimed, pointing to the screen as the other two huddled around the Screen. "A woman went missing yesterday. That could be whose blood it is. But it doesn't explain the male body I found"

"Maybe he wasn't from London."

Grell frowned, "Why would someone go through so much trouble?" He wondered out loud. "It seems like too much trouble for a demon. They like simplicity. The fact that this seems incredibly thought out doesn't make sense"

"What if it's not thought out?" Ronald asked, receiving two confused looks from the other two Reapers. "No, hear me out. Demons can create portals, yeah?"

"Yes, but only from the Human World to the Underworld. Not between places in the Human World"

"But what if they can?" Ronald shifted through the photos on the desk and pulled out the one of the Blood stained wall. "What if the human wasn't dragged up the wall, but through a portal?"

Grell frowned, "I've never heard of an instance where a Demon takes a Human to the Underworld. The Human would disintegrate."

"That's why I think they've found a way of transporting through the Human World via Portals." Ronald suggested.

Will thought for a moment, "It's possible. We will need to conduct more experiments"

"How will we be able to do that?" Grell asked, sitting straight in his chair, "A Demon hasn't been seen for decades. If we were able to actually track one down in the Human World, who's to say they will know how to do it? Maybe it's just one Demon who has the power to do it."

"You have a point." Will replied, "The best thing to do is dispatch Reapers for surveillance in London, hoping they'll find the Demon responsible"

Grell shook his head, "Too dangerous. If this Demon is able to transport between locations in the Human World, he could be way too dangerous for one Reaper to handle. No, I'll do surveillance when I have time." He checked his watch and groaned.

"Time for work?" Ronald asked as Grell nodded.

"I need to go home. And shower." He glanced at Will, "Darling, I need to go. I'll file the report for this and get it to you tomorrow morning"

Will nodded, "Make sure you do. Be safe tonight."

Grell wiggled his eyebrows as he stood, "Worried little ol' me will get hurt, hm?"

Will sighed and pushed Grell gently towards the door, "Just go and do your job. Maybe you'll be able to look out for the Demon tonight"

Grell threw his red coat over his chair and grabbed his bag, "I'm not a common street-walker, you know, darling. I'm a sophisticated Drag Queen" He wriggled his hips to prove his point.

Ronald laughed as Will sighed again. "Just go, Sutcliff"

Grell chuckled and walked from the room, looking over his shoulder as he said, "I like it when you use my last name, Will, it's so sexy"

Grell didn't want to make a huge effort tonight. He got home quickly and took a shower, sorting through his enormous collection of outfits to choose the best one. The weather was changing and the nights had become quite chilly. In the end, he chose a pair of fake-leather trousers, padding his already feminine hips to create the perfect hour glass figure, and popping on a stuffed bra. He chose a mesh top to couple his trousers, making sure his breasts looked realistic, and threw on a black fur jacket for the cold.

He couldn't be bothered with a wig, so he styled his hair into curls that fell beautifully around his hips, and did his make up the best he could with the bags he had under his eyes. He hid them cleverly with a pair of fake eyelashes and a bright lipstick to move the attention from them.

He always like the way he looked in drag. He had his own style – when most of the other Drag Queens dressed to be exactly that: a Drag Queen, he liked to add a certain amount of confusion to his look. Many a time he'd been mistaken for a woman, which boosted his ego.

A pair of high red heels and a matching handbag and he was all set. He also made sure to pack a vial or two just in case he found anything to advance the Case.

The bar was already packed when he sauntered in at midnight. Most heads turned his way as he flipped his hair, ordering a drink from Benny – the usual bartender- before walking in to the back room where three of his colleagues were prepping.

"How is it that you always look perfect, Grell? It's not fair, you know" One of the Drag Queens – Violet- said as she went behind the screen to tuck.

Grell laughed, "You wish you knew my secrets." He said flirtily as he dumped his bag and jacket at his mirror and reapplied his lipstick.

He was usually the first and last one – being the most asked for. Which now gave him the time to investigate around the area. The bar he was working at that night was fairly close to the Case Scene he'd been at earlier.

"Ladies and Lady-boys. Boys and Bears" A loud voice announced at the bar and Grell hoisted up his bra one last time before getting ready for his entrance. "You've all been asking for her, and she's received it. It gives me great pleasure – and arousal- to introduce our lovely red lady. Give it up for Scarlet"

The entire bar cheered as Grell walked onto the small stage in the back. He gave the Announcer a wink and a slap on the arse as he took the microphone from him.

Most of his Act was dancing and lip-syncing, but he sometimes did some comedy. By the time his hour was up, the people at the bar were begging for more. He really did adore this bit, being in the spotlight, being able to be as flamboyant as he wanted with no fear of discrimination. He took one final bow as people threw money onto the stage. Gathering it up quickly, he gave his last goodbye as he exited the stage.

He practically collapsed when he got into the back, flopping down at his station to count his tips for the night. The Manager followed him in a few minutes afterwards and came over to chat.

"Another brilliant performance, as always"

"Why thank you, Darling" Grell winked as he fiddled with some flyaway hair, "I do my best"

"You look exhausted" The Manager commented, leaning on the back of Grell's chair, "Have you slept?"

"Not at all" Grell smiled as the other man sighed.

"Grell, go home. Get some rest"

The Reaper frowned, "I have another set in three hours…"

"I'll pay you for that if you go home now. I need my best girl to perform her best and you can't do that when you're close to passing out.

Grell took a deep breath and smiled at his Manager in the mirror, "Thank you. I really appreciate it" He said, standing to collect his things.

The Manager gave him a cheeky pat on the arse as he left, "No worries. Just get some rest, alright? And be careful, there was a body found near here today."

Grell shrugged, "I'm a big girl, I can hold my own"

He chuckled, "I'm sure you can. Just be careful, okay?"

The care that these Humans had for Grell made his heart swell. He'd been with them for around 4 years, ever since he first started to experiment with Drag, and so had wriggled his way into their hearts. It was a risky business, being a Drag Queen, and his colleagues often got hurt in the job. He was fiercely protective of them, and often broke character if he saw one of his friends getting hurt.

Thanking his quick thinking, he rifled through his bag to find the spare change of clothes and sneakers he'd packed before he left and went behind the screen to change. He hated walking home in Drag, it made him feel like some sort of Prostitute, and he was treated like one. Jumping into his skinny jeans and throwing on a flowing black shirt, he shoved his shoes on and left via the back entrance.

The back entrance led out into a wide alleyway, where most Bar Staff huddled around for a quick cigarette before returning back inside. Grell joined the four waiters and bartenders that were on their break around a heating system the Manager had made and gladly accepted an offered Cigarette.

They made idle chatter as they rubbed their arms for warmth, wrapping their coats tighter around themselves. A few left to go back inside, and only two stayed with Grell. Grell liked them. They were upbeat and chatty, not caring that they were being overworked.

"You not working again tonight, Grell?" The waitress asked, pulling her shabby cardigan around her as she smoked.

Grell shook his head, "No, Bill sent me home to rest"

The guy nodded, "You do look like you need it"

"I'm still more fabulous than you, sweetie" Grell retorted, flipping his hair and making the other two chuckle.

"You ar-" Kate's words were drowned out by a sudden smash that came from deeper in the alley. Both humans froze, but Grell was already walking towards it to investigate.

"Grell!" Nick grabbed his arm to keep him still, "What are you doing?" He hissed, obviously not wanting to make a noise.

Grell glanced at him, "Go back inside, both of you, I'll sort this out"

"No, I won't let you"

The Reaper rolled his eyes, "Listen, I'm trained. I know how to handle myself. You, on the other hand, don't."

That stumped the two and, whilst still sceptical, slowly made their way back inside through the emergency door they used as a back entrance.

The moment the door shut, Grell was advancing on the noise. It had sounded like glass smashing, or something related to that, but his advanced senses heard something heavy also hitting the ground. A dull thud.

The alleyway went on for a while, much like the one he had investigated earlier that day, and soon he came to another dead end.

Sure enough, he found blood splatters, in the form of a body hitting the ground, and broken glass scattered around the area, but no body.

Grell growled, frustrated that it had happened again, this time right under his nose. He pulled out his phone to both take photos of the alley and to send a quick text to Will. He knew it was about 4 am but he knew Will would get it soon enough.

Pocketing his phone again, he climbed up to the rooftops, again, like before, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"You bastard. Why do you keep doing this?" He growled under his breath, when he suddenly saw a flash of something move in the corner of his eye. Dropping his bag, he spun around, hair flying, to see nothing.

He walked slowly towards where the movement came from, again seeing something move in his peripheral. He began to spin in circles, until he managed to pinpoint the blur. He kept spinning, playing the fool, then suddenly stopped and started sprinting towards the now figure like blur.

He clearly stunned the thing, as it stopped for a moment, just a moment, for Grell to get a glimpse of a dark figure, before it took off with the Reaper fresh on his heels.

Grell chased the thing for a few blocks, up and down over rooftops, until he turned the corner to a dark street to find nothing there. He slowed, walking down the street slowly, checking every shadow, every doorway, but there was nothing. Not a trace of the blurry figure.

Grell shook himself, convincing himself it actually happened, and it wasn't just some sort of hallucination.

It was then that he realised what street he was standing in. It had been years since he came here, it had changed a lot since then, but as he kept walking, he could see one thing that was exactly the same as it was a hundred years prior.

The ancient door creaked as he gently pushed it open, and the dust that had settled in the doorway was forced into the air. Grell coughed softly as it filled the air around him, waving a hand in front of his face to try and clear a way through it.

The shop was dark, and way too quiet. Even when it was occupied, it still held some sort of life, but now the dust that covered the unused coffins was thick, and untouched. Grell kept walking forwards, into the shop. He remembered just how much he used to hang around here. When Will was giving him grief, or he wanted to run into a certain Butler by 'chance', the Undertaker would always welcome him in with open arms. It made him wonder just what had happened to the old Reaper. Could Reaper's die of old age? Surely not.

Something wasn't right here, Grell decided, but wasn't sure what. Maybe it was just his nostalgia getting the best of him. No, there was definitely something not right. After a close examination, he realised what was wrong.

The jar of dog biscuits – a trademark for the grey-haired reaper – lay on top of a coffin, looked like they had been moved recently. The dust around the base of the jar was unsettled, and there wasn't any on the jar itself. Picking a biscuit out with his long nails, Grell brought it to his face to examine. New. Fresh. Grell was beginning to hate that word; it always confused things.

"It's been a while since someone visited me" He heard a familiar voice say behind him and turned to see the man he'd been expecting.

The Undertaker hadn't changed in the century they'd been apart. His black robes covered his pale hands, his fringe, albeit slightly whiter than before, covered his eyes and scar that ran from his forehead to his chin.

Grell couldn't help but grin, "You're as handsome as ever, darling" He said, offering the Reaper the dog biscuit he was still holding.

The Undertaker laughed, the same high pitched giggle he'd always had, as he plucked the cookie from Grell and stuck it in his mouth, "And you as beautiful as ever, although your clothing choices have changed dramatically"

Grell glanced down at himself and realised he was wearing his skinny jeans and hoodie. "Yeah" He chuckled, "I was too exhausted to make an effort, I'm sure you can understand" He smiled at his old friend.

Undertaker nodded, smiling widely, "So, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my lady?"

Grell blushed at the pet name – something he hadn't been called in years- and shrugged, "I have to be honest, Undie, I happened upon the street by chance. I was chasing a bl-"

"-Blurry Figure that disappeared suddenly?" The old Reaper finished, leaving Grell agape.

"W-Well, yeah. How did you know?"

That high giggle again, "I may be old, but I still know when London is in trouble" A long-nailed finger came out of nowhere and gently tapped Grell on his nose.

"London is in trouble? It is that dangerous?"

The Silver haired man shrugged, "It has the power to, just depends on if he wants to"

"He?" Grell stepped towards the Undertaker, who idly walked into the back room – something that actually looked lived in-, and began to make a pot of tea with an ancient kettle. "You know him?"

"I do"

"Is he powerful?"

"Immensely so"

Grell frowned, "Hang on, why are you telling me this without payment?"

For the first time since meeting him, the Undertaker seemed to mellow as he turned to the Reaper. "The honour of your visit is enough payment, my dear" He said quietly, and it dawned on Grell that he was the first person to see Undertaker in years.

"Right..." Grell shuffled on his feet for a moment before continuing with his questioning. "Is he a demon?"

A chuckle. "Now you're asking the correct questions"

"Well is he?"

"Yes"

"One with enough power to put the entire city of London in danger?"

"Yes"

"What type of demon is he?"

Another giggle, and silence.

"Undertaker?"

The man in question turned back to Grell and gave him the cup of tea he just made, then proceeded to make his own in silence.

"You need to tell me"

"I'm sorry, my dear, you need to find this one out on your own"

"Then at least tell me if he can make portals throughout the Human World"

Undertaker paused, "You know that already, then" He stated as Grell nodded, "Yes, this one has the power to do that"

"Shit" Grell muttered under his breath, which was followed by a laugh from the other man.

"It's not lady-like to swear, you know"

"I'm plenty much of a lady, thank you very much" Was Grell's automatic response as he sipped his tea.

After determining the Undertaker wasn't going to give him any more information, they both sat at the shabby kitchen table in the back room, chatting about things that had happened in the last century. Grell found out that Undertaker wasn't as naive to the modern world as he originally thought. He even had a TV – one from the 90s but still a TV.

A few hours passed, and Grell began to yawn again, remembering his boss had let him off early to sleep.

He said his goodbyes to the Undertaker, who insisted he come and visit again soon and Grell made a mental promise to do so. The man was lonely, he could tell.

Backtracking through the streets, Grell managed to find his bag where he'd dropped it on the rooftop and stopped to watch the horizon get brighter, before heading back towards the mansion, his bed, and some much-needed sleep.


End file.
